They walked with him still holding her hand in his. It was cooler now, the autumn breeze ruffling the tail of her hair.
Her heart ached for him. This was clearly something he’d been dealing with his entire life, and while she knew Hope was happy to have her father back in her life, that didn’t mean Ryan had to feel the same way.
“I’m sorry you suffered because of your dad.”
He exhaled loudly. “I didn’t suffer. I had a good life. It was just different from my friends’, and not just because I had no father. My mom wasn’t like other moms; you had to know that, Faith.”
“Yes, I knew that.”
“We didn’t go without, but there was some stuff she couldn’t give us. I often wondered if maybe my dad could have. Now I don’t care.”
They walked in silence for a while. He was still holding her hand, and she wanted him to.
“My mother is in there,” she said, pointing to a building in the distance. “And when she goes, I’ll have only Noah and Lucy, and that’s enough. Plus, there’s the friends I have in this town. You have friends in your life and Hope. Maybe that’s enough for you?
“That’s how I feel.” He swung her hand a few times. “How long has your mom been in there?”
“A few years. She has dementia. Last week was the first time she didn’t know who I was.” And hell, that had hurt. The pain had almost doubled her over when she’d seen that blank look in her mother’s eyes.
“I’m sorry; that must be hard.”
“It’s heartbreaking. Everything we’ve shared is lost to her. A few months ago, they found a tumor in her stomach. It’s killing her.”
He let her fingers go and slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she let him, needing the support in that moment as her throat clogged with tears.
Before now she’d kept her grief to herself because it hurt Noah to see her that way, and like her, he was already suffering over what their wonderful, loving mother had become.
“The only thing we still have is music. She has a piano in her room that she played before she got too sick, and we’d sing together. Now I go and sing to her, and she just lies there watching.”
“And here I am moaning about my father reappearing in my life. I’m sorry, Faith. This must be hell for you and Noah.”
She let the tears fall as she leaned into him. “I miss her.”
He didn’t speak, just held her close as they walked slowly along the path. In that moment, they were united in their worry and grief. He for Hope and for what he’d lost losing his father so young, and she for her mother. Worry that she was suffering, and grief that she’d already lost her.
Chapter 15
Ryan veered left, taking her off the trails, and she knew exactly where he was headed.
“I haven’t been here in years.”
“Since I left?”
“You didn’t leave that much of an impression on me,” she lied. Because he had. Ryan had been her first love, and Faith doubted anyone forgot that. Neither would she ever forget her first lover.
They found the small clearing and the huge tree trunk that was hollowed out. As children they’d hidden inside when playing with friends, and as teenagers they’d come here to do things they shouldn’t.
“Do you think we’d still fit in there?” Ryan asked, dropping her hand to look inside.
“I probably would. Not sure about you though.”
“I’ll fit.” He dropped down and crawled inside. Faith found herself following.
“Plenty of room,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her down beside him.
They were cocooned inside the trunk.
“It’s nice here. No one but us knows where we are,” Ryan said.